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OK, I Lied: It Sucks To Cook After Work


Remember that time that I was a full-time food blogger? And I had the nerve to say things like: “You can cook after work!

We Got Married (The Wedding Post)


I was never a wedding person. Growing up, I’d watch the wedding scene in The Sound of Music and fantasize about writing a great musical someday.

My New Career: T.V. Writer


Ok, it’s time to spill the beans: starting next month, I’m going to be a staff writer on the new ABC Dan Savage-inspired sitcom “The Real O’Neals,” starring Martha Plimpton!

Quick Queso with Chorizo (and Other Tex-Mex Delights)


Sometimes it’s nice to cook for friends who favor a particular cuisine because it steers you in a new direction.

On Cats and Gender

Hey folks, here’s an essay I wrote for Medium on Saturday called, “What My Cat Taught Me About Gender.” Check it out!

Let’s Go To A Chinese Supermarket!


Recently I became friends with an Amateur Gourmet reader named Peggy who works in T.V. out here in L.A.

Rice Gone Wild, Salmon Adventures & The Night I Served A Pork Chop To A Vegetarian


Necessity is the mother of invention (its Baby Mama, if you will) and so it was that a few weeks ago I had carrots, onions, celery, and some Arborio rice on hand and because I didn’t feel like food shopping that evening, I set out to make a risotto with just water.

Raspberry Ricotta Cake


You’ve heard of one-pot meals, but have you heard of one-cake desserts? That’s not a thing, but it should be.

Artichokes: Just Boil Them


Ugh, artichokes. At some point, I espoused my philosophy–”Artichokes: Not Worth It”–and then slightly changed my tune when I stuffed them with breadcrumbs and cheese and baked them.

The Night That Lolita, My 16 Year-Old Female Cat, Became A Man


When I first adopted Lolita from the Atlanta Humane Society in 2001, her name was Princess. She was in a room full of mangy cats, but she seemed very ladylike and elegant; she held herself differently, a Christine Baranski type, who wanted out of this dump.

Let’s Facebook

Hey, in case you’re missing my more frequent updates, I have an idea for you: follow me on my Facebook Fan Page.

Do Cooking Shows Make You Fat?

Check out this fancy article that I wrote for Quartz and see if you agree.

Wham-Bam Cauliflower Gratin


Nothing sets me off like sanctimoniousness; that holier-than-thou, self-righteous, sermon-on-the-mount style of food writing.

Chicken Under A Brick (Or A Cast Iron Skillet)


Scared you, didn’t I? Well I didn’t mean to. It’s funny how many people read my last post and assumed I was ending my blog.

What’s Going On With Food Blogging?


For as long as I’ve been a food blogger (more than a decade), I’ve been an open book; sharing major life events as they’ve happened–moving to California, getting engaged–and pretty much treating you, my faithful audience, like a close friend I could trust.

Craig’s Birthday Dinner at Mori Sushi


It’s a bit of a struggle for me to spend a fortune on sushi. Don’t get me wrong; I really like sushi, but I’m perfectly happy eating the $12 sushi sampler at Jinpachi for lunch in West Hollywood.

Lamb Meatballs on Ottolenghi’s Hummus with Pomegranate Molasses


Laurie Anderson has a song–more of a performance piece–called “Only An Expert Can Deal with a Problem.” It’s a dark, satirical look at the way Americans defer so willingly to experts; whether it’s the talking heads on Fox News, hyper-judgmental celebrities on Fashion Police, or mental health gurus like Dr.

Kale Pesto Pitza


When I went to college at Emory 3,000 years ago, there used to be a spot in Emory Village called Cedar Tree that sold “pitzas.” It was basically a piece of toasted pita bread topped with pizza-like toppings and the surprising thing was that it was really, really good.

A Response To Ms. Thorisson


[Yesterday, Mimi Thorisson of the beautiful food blog Manger took issue with my Piglet review of her cookbook A Kitchen in France.

Eating New York in Sub-Zero Weather (Estela, Prune, Del Posto & Russ & Daughters Cafe)


Here’s how cold it was in New York: on our last morning there, I left a pair of gloves behind for the person I borrowed them from and rode the elevator down to the street with Craig to catch a cab to the airport.


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